


Hope is the Thing with Feathers

by WhenFlowersFade



Category: Baten Kaitos
Genre: After the end of the game, Mizuti contemplates the new state of the world, Post-Canon, after the guardian spirit goes home, the islands are no longer in the sky
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-17
Updated: 2020-11-17
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:35:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27600811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WhenFlowersFade/pseuds/WhenFlowersFade
Summary: After the Island fell from the Sky to rest on the earth once more, Mizuti reflects on how much things have changed in such a short time.
Kudos: 2





	Hope is the Thing with Feathers

Different. There were so many ways she could say it, and about so many different parts of the world. Strange, different, changed.

Now that she thought back, she knew exactly when she had first realized things wouldn’t be as they were. She had taken off her mask. Everything had been a little unusual for her after that. Awkward. Somewhat uncomfortable. But there were bigger things to worry about.

Earth, Sea, and Sky were once again one; had been, in fact, for a long time. Nearly a year and a half since the permanent fall of Malpercio, when the Islands had fallen from their thousand-year place in the Sky to make the Earth whole again. Nearly a year and a half since one of her comrades had revealed herself to be the guardian of the Ocean: the Ocean which she had released. The Ocean which completed the world.

Granted, nobody had realized that the former Sky-dwellers would lose their Wings of the Heart. Being a Child of the Earth, she didn’t know what it was like to have such Wings, thus she couldn’t relate to those who had lost them. She supposed that the closest she could come to imagining it would be if she lost her magic, the magic that kept her afloat.

She saw how much the people had suffered, in those first few months after the Great Fall. None but those from Alfard knew how to function without Wings, and none at all knew what to make of the Ocean. Her people helped as much as they were able, and the world had come far. From what she had gathered from her last trip to the former Empire, a sort of flying machine was being developed, inspired by tales of such things told by the Guardian Spirit who had helped them so much on their journey.

She sighed. Despite being missed fiercely, the strong, feisty being was rarely spoken of. Every time the Spirit was brought up, someone would change the subject. She couldn’t quite understand why; she thought of her lost friend every time she went on a new adventure, trying to find a way to keep her promise. She knew that the former Guarded missed the Spirit the most out of any of them, which was understood, even expected. He’d spent more than three years with the being, he probably felt less than whole without his Guardian. Once again, this was something she couldn’t relate to.

She looked up into the clear, blue Sky and smiled. It still amazed her to be able to see the Sky without the Taintclouds in the way. She knew her comrades wouldn’t understand; they had spent their whole lives in that Sky, after all. They’d seen it every day. Looking up into the brilliant, beautiful Sky gave her a warm feeling in her heart, perhaps the closest she would ever come to having Wings. It reminded her of a poem that the Spirit had recited through their blue-haired friend, so long ago. How did it go again? Hope is feathered, or something like that?

She was so wrapped up in her thoughts that she didn’t notice said blue-haired comrade until he sat down beside her.

“Thinking about her, too, Mizuti?” he asked wistfully. This startled her slightly. He wanted to talk about his lost Spirit? That was new. He sighed and gazed up into the Sky.

“Kalas, why must you always forget to say ‘the Great Mizuti’? And to answer your question, yes, the Great Mizuti be thinking about the brave Spirit. The Great Mizuti be remembering when she heard that poem. Unfortunately, the Great Mizuti cannot remember the poem itself. It be foggy. Spotty. Not complete.”

Her friend looked at her, laughter in his eyes. Then he spoke one sentence, and it made her heart soar.

“Hope is the Thing with Feathers.”

**Author's Note:**

> The title (and the poem in question within the fic) refer to Hope is the Thing with Feathers by Emily Dickinson. I definitely recommend looking it up.


End file.
